


In My Lap

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Toppy/Dommy Kylo [18]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 09:24:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10896426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo distracts Hux.





	In My Lap

“Come sit in my lap,” he says, looking up from the chair he’s stolen, behind Hux’s desk. He sits like he owns it, which is both infuriating and enticing, bundled into one.”  


“I’ve got too much to do.”  


Kylo’s eyes brook no argument, and Hux realises that - right now - he doesn’t want to give it. It’s an appealing prospect, even if he _does_ have too much to do. None of it is absolutely urgent, so… He holds his tablet fiercely, his eyes tracking over Kylo’s, negotiating and re-negotiating. Testing boundaries without saying a word. 

“I still need to work,” Hux opens the discussion at last.  


“If you can focus whilst keeping my cock warm, then by all means.”  


Hux rolls his eyes. “Then get me ready while I work.”

He puts the datapad on the desk, turns it facing the chair, and slips between seat and desk. He braces his hands and doesn’t give much more than the slightest bend of his waist, offering his ass but only superficially.

Fingers reach around, stroking over his upper thighs, first, making his hairs tingle everywhere they rise from his skin. Hux does his best to ignore the pull, even as the belt is unbuckled, and his pants fall under warm, broad hands.

Progress reports. His eyes skim the same line three times as the sound of lube bottles and sticky fingers fill the air. A middle finger, stroking concentric circles… then pulling at his hole. Down, to rub over the skin of his taint, and then back up to his pucker.

He is _not_ going to let Kylo distract him yet. No.

Even as that finger thrusts lazily into him, the rest of that hand holding him still, Hux forces his mind to look at risks, benefits, failures… two fingers, and his feet slide further apart. 

_This planet is promising for resources, and–_

Three, and this is rougher than he expected. Hux can take it, and it isn’t damaging, but it _is_ more of a stretch than he expected. He reads with more intent, even as he’s pulled backwards. 

Kylo’s arm around his waist is insistent, so Hux grabs his datapad as he’s slowly impaled. He holds onto it as his ankles wind around Kylo’s legs, his toes locking behind his calves, and he feels the steady, sure presence of his lover buried deep inside of him.

Then he doesn’t move. Not really. Hands on his thighs, stroking over the fabric, and kissing little nuzzles all along his throat, but no thrusting, grinding… barely even a rocking or a rolling. His Knight _meant_ it when he said he would keep his cock warm.

Kylo’s cock is full and glorious, and Hux always loves to sit on it. He feels the itch of hunger slowly take hold, but he’s not going to be reduced to begging, or taking. He’s _working_ , and the steady pulse between his buttocks, filling his passage…

Hux imagines the feeling of that cock against his prostate. Imagines the awkward movements, and the rough drag of his thrusts… his eyes glaze over the words, and he decides to up the ante by clenching, using his walls to work the shaft, to urge him on.

“Still busy?” Kylo asks.  


Hux is. Hux works him like his life depends on it, without moving an outward muscle. He grips him, and turns his head lazily. “Your cock not working properly?”

“It’s working just fine.”  


“Doesn’t feel like it.”  


“Oh?” Hands on his upper thighs, pulling him flush, getting the last little bit inside.  


Damnit. Hux wants him to move, and he squirms about, rolling back and forth, as if getting comfortable. He flicks the screen up, and when Kylo does nothing else, he tries to stand.

The hands on his waist slam him back down, and - ah yes - that’s what he was wanting. _Needing._ That’s what he was missing. Hux’s eyes slit in delight, and he tries again. He’s slammed down harder, and he grabs the arms of the chair, the datapad falling to the floor.

“Thought you had to work…”  


“You’re very demanding,” Hux lies, and keeps fighting to get free, only to be pulled back down again. It’s not as deep or hard as he’d like, or as fast, but the thrill of the minor moment of weightless, helpless free-fall is making his head spin.   


“Would you like me to handle your problem?”  


“Depends if you’re going to do it properly or not.”  


Kylo stands, then, and Hux falls face-first onto his desk. He barely breaks his fall with his hands, and then he’s being pounded fiercely, and his feet paw the ground in bliss. Kylo’s slams hit just where he needs them, and he holds on to the desk, taking every thrust with a grunt of pleasure. 

Hux smiles. Work can wait for a few hours. This is _much_ more fun.


End file.
